


Dilegua, O Notte!

by cerie



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen has a predisposition for exhibition that shows itself in the most conspicuous of manners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dilegua, O Notte!

She loved to be watched. Helen guessed it was a perversion of the modesty she’d carried through her own era but she got an exquisite little thrill at the threat of getting caught and, as such, tended to coerce her lovers into engaging in sex with her at the most inopportune times. Nikola had always been up for her little adventures, memorably spending an extraordinary amount of time beneath her skirts in a box seat while watching Turandot; Helen associated Liu’s death with her own little deaths, even to this day. Helen was actually quite certain she’d never learned the plot of the damned opera, more than a little preoccupied with the flick of Nikola’s tongue and the curve of his fingers as he brought her off effortlessly, leaving her gasping for breath and red-cheeked.

But sex in a fairly-private opera box was nothing compared to in her villa in Capri, doors and windows flung wide to let in the late summer sunlight and Nikola’s hands mapping out her body while one of the maids surreptitiously tried to ignore signora’s muttered curses and muffled screams. Helen had been perfectly content to leave her eyes closed, imagining the young maid’s eyes wide as she watched the two of them writhing in the bed, but Nikola had the cheek to motion the girl closer, guiding her hand down to roll her thumb against the place he’d teased with his tongue moments before. And Helen lost herself again, this time beneath the enthusiastic, if inexperienced, tongue of an Italian girl young enough to be her granddaughter.

Air travel became commonplace as the decades passed, effectively eliminating trains and boats as the way to get from one part of the world to another and Helen had been an early adopter, quite content to eschew the comforts of beds and restaurants to get to her destination in a few hours rather than a few days. Nikola was less fond of planes given he was more fond of sprawling out in the common room of a train car or on the deck of a boat and regaling the masses with tales of his untold brilliance (debatable, at best). Still, he found occasion to travel with Helen from time to time and it was she who’d suggested the tiny water closet, the cheap metal countertop pressing into the small of her back as Nikola thrusted into her, his hands planted on either side of her head rendering her unable to move. Oh, she could move her hips the tiniest bit, in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts, but it was small and drew it out long and Nikola muffled her screams by fisting his hand in her hair and dragging her close for a rough kiss that seemed to swallow her entirely, and, given his own special talents, made her hair stand on end for a few seconds.

But trysts in public places with Nikola came to an effective halt when he faked his death to hide his research and his talents awakened by the Source blood and Helen heard nothing of him for decades, contenting herself with her work at the Sanctuary and taking a lover only every ten years or so, just long enough to slake her desire before turning them out and going back to her true love: her work. They were always anonymous, the lovers in those years, and Helen found few of them to be remarkable. Sometimes there would be one feature that stood out: a stunning pair of eyes, a long, lean set of hands, but none of them were worth keeping for long stretches. It went on that way until well after Ashley was an adult, well into her one hundred and fifty seventh year of life.

She’d met Will Zimmerman before, when he was very small, and cradled him to her chest as he cried the night his mother died. She absently kept tabs on him after that, ensuring he was provided for and was pleased to hear his name once again in various forensic circles: eccentric, but talented. She offered him the position at the Sanctuary based on his resume, not his personality, but was pleased to find that his sense of humor and sense of morality seemed to mesh well with the rest of her staff and family. He was a nice fit, Will, and Helen found herself growing fonder of him than she should have. He had a cheeky sense of humor that Helen liked to play into and what had started as a mere friendship had developed into a rather-troubling series of daydreams in which Will fucked her on the sofa in her office while Nikola looked on, sipping from a wineglass (and one of her better vintages, no doubt) and leering at the both of them. Given she hadn’t seen Nikola in sixty years, it seemed unlikely at best.

Until, of course, he showed up on her doorstep to help search for Ashley, his wine-drinking put to good use while he tried to create a weapon that would maim and not kill, hurt just enough to save. Helen was beside herself in those days, barely hanging onto sanity as she spent night and day searching for her daughter’s whereabouts as well as her cure, and while Nikola and Will would never be true friends, the two men shared a common concern for her, a hope that she’d be able to relax and recharge for the battle to come.

It was storming the night she came into the library and locked the doors behind her, Nikola and Will’s heads both bent over a schematic that Helen was unfamiliar with and, given her current state, completely unconcerned with. Both men looked up when she cleared her throat and Will, at least, seemed shocked by the fact that beneath a floor-length silk robe, she was wearing naught but her knickers and a smile. Nikola shook his head and tipped back the last of his wine, leaving the dregs in the glass, and crossed the marble floors to kiss her, hand twisting in her hair to pull her head back and expose her white throat. It was cliché, perhaps, but Nikola was always fond of biting her neck and leaving as many marks as he could; after a particularly-fun trip to Marseilles in the late 1800s, she’d worn scarves for a week.

Will made a strangled noise and Helen let her eyes drift open, watching him from lowered lashes as he gripped the edge of the desk and tried to find something to say. She watched as he opened and closed his mouth several times with no sound coming out and it was Nikola who chuckled, turning his head to look at Will as he slid his hand against her silk underwear, teasing her with a knuckle.

“Don’t just stand there, pretty boy. While Helen likes to be watched, I prefer a little audience participation.” Will kept blinking, clearly dumbfounded, and Nikola sighed and moved his hand away, eliciting a whimper from Helen. Nikola crossed the room and tugged Will closer by the lapels, kissing the other man roughly. Helen thought she saw Will protest for half a moment, hands pushing at Nikola’s shoulders, but he eventually gave into the kiss, his hands cupping Nikola’s shoulders rather than pushing him away. It was a long moment that Helen watched the two of them, her own hand sneaking down to tease herself through silk and lace, before the kiss broke and the two of them were looking at her.

“Touch her.” The command was low and soft, Nikola’s eyes lit up with a hint of wicked promises. Will nodded and crossed the few feet to stand in front of her, gently shifting her hand out of the way to replace it with his own. He brushed his thumb lazily over the damp silk, bending his head to kiss hotly from neck to ear and back up, teeth tugging at the lobe as he pressed a knuckle against her with enough pressure to make her knees go weak. Helen felt Nikola at her back, his hands gently tugging the robe from her shoulders and letting it pool on the floor, making her some Botticelli painting come to life, only she didn’t imagine the good monsignor painting her between two men fighting for her attentions, seducing her with distraction; more’s the pity.

The hands at her shoulders slid down to tease her breasts, the pads of Nikola’s fingers slightly rough from years at playing at electricity in his spare time. Helen turned her head to kiss him, lips and teeth meeting in a messy, if well-rehearsed dance, and she sighed into Nikola’s mouth when she felt Will’s lips and teeth at her neck, worrying the lovebite Nikola had left her earlier with his lips and tongue. Will pushed the panties aside, thumb teasing her clitoris lightly as he slid one, then two fingers into her, crooking them and causing her to arch her hips involuntarily. As she moved, Nikola moved with her, molded to her back, and he dropped his kiss to her shoulder, teeth harsher than Will’s and more likely to leave a few marks in the morning.

“Couch?” she asked breathlessly, getting a nod from Will and a gently-curved smile from Nikola. It was Will who guided her there, one arm looped casually around her waist as if he’d done so many times before, guiding her down to the sofa and kneeling before her, hands pushing her knees apart. That done, he slid his hands beneath her thighs and tugged her close, using just the tip of his tongue to trace a lazy circuit over her, swiping at her clitoris whenever he was close. Her eyes had closed again, damned things, and she opened them to see Nikola had undone his trousers, hand lazily pumping his cock as he watched Will tease her. Nikola reached a hand out to one of Will’s, wrapping it firmly around his cock and encouraging him to stroke as he teased her. Dear God.

She was so close she was nearly sobbing when Will stripped, clothes joining her abandoned robe, and settled on the couch. He pulled Helen into his lap, hands at her hips positioning her carefully so she sank down on his cock and he kept her thighs spread wide, leaving her deliciously exposed. That would have been more than enough and Helen let her eyes close again when she heard Will’s voice in her ear, rough and low.

“Keep your eyes open, Magnus.” She nodded and opened them, surprised to see Nikola kneeling before the two of them, his hands cupping her knees. Will arched into her then, and spoke once more, this time the command directed at Nikola and not herself.

“Bring her off, Tesla,” he said sharply, and Nikola nodded, dipping his head to lick at where they joined, tongue teasing the base of Will’s cock before drifting upward, swirling around her clitoris until she was panting and desperate, trapped between them with no leverage to move and get what she wanted so desperately. She had started to climax when she felt Will’s hand drift from her hip to spread her wide, holding her open so Nikola could suck at her clitoris, teeth brushing her as she came and muffled her wail against Will’s neck. He finished with her, his other hand digging sharply into her hip. After giving her a moment to catch her breath, he gently lifted her and settled her on the sofa before giving her a quick smile.

“Show’s not over, Magnus.” Nikola was still hard, lazily stroking his cock, and Will slid his mouth on him with a practiced ease that made Helen wonder what, exactly, he’d studied in university besides psychology. Nikola groaned and blindly reached a hand out for Helen, catching her hair before she took his hand and laid it against her breast. Nikola squeezed lightly as he came, hips arching him closer to Will’s mouth as the other man swallowed, choked little moan something she hadn’t heard out of Nikola Tesla since their days at Oxford.

The storm was dying when Helen felt she could finally move, the fire long burned down to mere embers. She shrugged back into her robe and belted it tightly before crossing the room to Will, gently cupping his cheek in her hand.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted, laughing nervously. Helen liked that laugh; it made him seem boyish and charming for all his experience. “But I’m glad it happened.”

Helen kissed him wordlessly, hands curling into his hair, and when it broke Will was smiling down at her, fingers gently teasing a curl of her hair.

“When you and Nikola have finished for the night, you’re welcome to come up.” Will gave her the sort of smile that was heart-breakingly sweet and for a fleeting moment, Helen wondered if she’d made the right choice. She could care for him far too much if she wasn’t careful and, unlike Nikola, Will was mortal and fallible to age.

She was hardly surprised when the two of them piled into her bed late that night, her head resting against Will’s shoulder as Nikola pillowed his head against her breasts.

After all, she’d always known how to show someone a good time.


End file.
